


Truck Got Stuck

by cominginside



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cominginside/pseuds/cominginside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jordan Eberle and Taylor Hall: farmers.  The mud wins.  A very short futurefic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truck Got Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> I can't even remember why I wrote this, but it's been a while since I've posted something, so here it is. For full reading experience, listen to the Corb Lund song of the title while reading.

They'd never actually planned to buy a farm. It had just happened, when Jordan had retired, and they'd both just needed a break from Edmonton for a few years. Originally, they'd talked about Calgary, but it hadn't felt right when they'd looked at places. They'd found the farm on the drive home, closer to Edmonton than Red Deer, and Taylor had jokingly suggested taking a look at it. They hadn't expected to fall in love with it, but the house had everything Jordan was looking for, and they'd both agreed that it'd be a good change from the city. A few years later, it's _home_. It's not a fully functioning farm and it probably never will be, but they have a field of corn that's actually growing this year and an orchard that they'd somehow convinced to produce fruit after a couple years of fighting with it. Jordan gets fresh eggs from their chickens every morning, and Taylor has taken to driving farm equipment with a glee that's somewhat alarming, even to Jordan.

This summer had been dry right up until it became very very wet, and Jordan's in the middle of checking the basement to make sure nothing is leaking when Taylor stomps up to the top of the stairs, mud covering his boots and the bottom of his jeans, and says, "the fucking truck is stuck."

Once Jordan's done laughing at him and has made him mop up the trail of mud and wheat that he's dragged into the house, he pulls on his own boots and rolls up his jeans and heads out to look at the truck. It is really, truly stuck, deep ruts encasing the bottom of the wheels, and Jordan sighs.

"Why did you keep trying to drive it after it wouldn't go?"

"I thought maybe it just needed, y'know, to warm up or something," Taylor says. He's in his forties now, but he still pouts like a teenager when he feels dumb, and it still makes Jordan shake his head to hide the smile that he can't help.

“You're a moron," he tells his husband, sighing and pulling out his phone to call a tow truck.

To his credit, the tow truck driver does a pretty good job of not laughing at them, and he even explains how to get traction when it gets really muddy and gives them the number of a good paving company. Jordan runs inside and gets him a few of the apple bran muffins he'd baked the other day with apples from the orchard in thanks, and the guy looks pretty pleased as he drives off.

"What were you even going to do?" Jordan asks as he leans against the house, watching Taylor check over the truck to make sure nothing's got mud ground into it that shouldn't.

"Check on the fields," Taylor says. "Haven't been out there in a couple of days."

"What with the Biblical rains, no," Jordan says.

Taylor looks up at him, looking thoughtful. "If I can't drive out there when it's muddy, maybe we should get some horses," he says. "Better for the environment, too."

Jordan stares at him for a long moment, then starts laughing. He can't stop, not even when Taylor frowns at him. Eventually he manages to keep himself from giggling for long enough to say, "sure, but you're in charge of re-shoeing them every time they lose a shoe in the mud."

"Okay," Taylor says, finally, "maybe that isn't the best idea." He sulks for a minute, then smiles when Ebs starts laughing again.

"No," Jordan says, standing up and walking over to Taylor. "It's okay, you're still pretty."

"Hey," Taylor says, but Jordan shuts him up by kissing him.

"Now come on," he says, "let's get you out of those muddy jeans."

"But I still need to clean the truck--" Taylor starts.

"Tay," Jordan says, patiently, "I meant we should get naked. Besides, it's about to rain. Let nature be your truck wash."

"Oh," Taylor says, then grins. "Okay, yeah."


End file.
